The Old Man and the Machine

This is her third time walking down the frozen foods aisle.  Could it be she’s not looking at peas, she’s looking at me?  She glances across the five feet between us and smiles, brushing the hair from her face.  And it’s no coincidence that her eyes are locked with my eyes and she’s not looking away.  And brain no make mouth talk good.  Durrr.

And then she’s gone.

So from now on I’m going to live as if’ my body was on temporary loan.  In actuality I am one hundred years old.  Broken in a darkened room, as the storm rages outside.  Decrepit and decayed, clinging to life through respirators and tubes coursing into my veins.  And through magic or science I’ve sent back in time to inhabit my younger body for the last few hours I have left.  I’m not going to rob any banks or stick my dick in any electrical sockets, because hey that’ll catch up to god ole’ old me eventually.  But I’m going to live life this body is stolen by an older wiser me with no time for regrets.  And I’m going to be brave, and fearless.

And I’m going to eat ice cream.

So the next time a pretty girl is looking at me.  Brain will make mouth talk good.

And I’ll say, “Hello”

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